


Hope Locked Up In My Throat

by suchfun



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Matchmaker Laura, Pining Derek, Supportive Laura, Werewolf Conferences & Conventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 04:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12291612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchfun/pseuds/suchfun
Summary: Derek likes Stiles a lot and he doesn't know what to do with it... but Laura does.AKA five times Laura pushes Derek and Stiles together and one time she almost doesn't… but then she does.





	Hope Locked Up In My Throat

**Author's Note:**

> For the final day of Laura Appreciation Week! I've been working on a 20k, Laura-centric, Laura POV fic for literally four/five years at this point, and I really, _really_ wanted to have it finished for this week, but I'm just not happy with it yet. :( Instead, here's a fic that took me four days to finish and that I betaed myself. It was supposed to be the quickest lil 1k ditty... but then again so was the 20k fic. Obviously, I suck at brevity.
> 
> This fic is sooo self-indulgent, basically just me putting together a bunch of tropes I've always wanted to write and then just... writing them. Some vague canon still applies, but mostly not.
> 
> Title from a song by JJ Project called Coming Home.

-1-

"Dude," says Laura, dropping her tray on the table and settling opposite Derek in the booth. "Lil human cutie is giving you the eye." She nods somewhere behind Derek, and smirks. "You should go for it, he's just your type."

"Absolutely not," Derek says calmly. He pulls out his own lunch, a saran-wrapped chicken breast and spinach sandwich he brought from the deli next door, and starts unwrapping it. He doesn't turn around. "I'm not consorting with anyone who a) uses McDonald's as a hunting ground for dates and b) volunteers to actually eat at McDonald's."

"You're consorting with me," she points out, through a mouthful of fries. "And that's way worse, I can smell all the gross crap they put in these things but I eat it anyway." She shoves her burger in her mouth and rips off a whole third, chewing with her mouth open. 

Derek shrugs. He picks up a wedge of his sandwich, already quartered, and takes a small bite. "If I could choose, I wouldn't have you as a sister. But I can't. That's the point of family."

Laura ignores him, still watching the random guy. "Do you think he's coming to PAWS?"

One of Derek's claws pops and tears a hole through his bread. He feigns calm, like Laura's stupid acronym doesn't piss him off. Like Laura isn't intimately familiar with what pisses him and isn't saying it on purpose. "He's human," Derek points out. "He's probably just having lunch."

"The hotel's right over the street though, and his friend smells wolfy." She shoves the rest of her burger into her mouth and stands up. "That's it, I'm asking him."

Derek panics and grabs her arm. "Sit down!" he hisses, yanking her back into her seat. "You can _not_ just approach random humans in fast food restaurants and ask if they're going to the Pan-American Werewolf Summit!"

"You could just ask the wolfy friend," someone says, but it's not from anywhere close—it's from behind Derek. He slowly turns to see the guys Laura must have been talking about, grinning and waving obnoxiously from their table a few feet away. Derek ducks back down before he can really see what either of them look like. "Stiles says to ask if you're the— Stiles, I'm not asking tha— oh my god, ow okay! God! He wants to know if you're the Hottie Hales from New York."

Laura's face breaks into a huge smirk. "Oh, this is going to be magnificent."

 

-2-

Scott and Stiles are, in fact, attending the Pan-American Werewolf Summit. They're a relatively new pack, at least compared to the Hales, and this is apparently the first year things have really been calm enough in their territory that they could afford to send representatives.

"Yeah, turns out home sweet home? Not so sweet," Stiles says, pulling out in front of their little group and backing down the row of seats, nearly tripping over the legs of every one. 

On the walk from McDonald's back to the hotel, which they all took together, he fell over a raised paver _and_ flailed directly into the door when he tried to push instead of pull. Every time he does something clumsy Derek feels the urge to reach out and hold him steady and protect him get stronger, which is just so— 

It's ridiculous, and he's tired from the flight. New York to San Diego, it was taxing, there were— kids. Crying kids. It was really— And now he's exhausted. He should sit down immediately, before he really hurts himself.

He stops abruptly at a group of four free chairs just to the right of centre stage, and drops down in the one furthest from Stiles. "Here," he says gruffly.

Scott shrugs. "Cool." He edges past, moving to sit between Derek and Stiles, but then Laura steps in and somehow physically pushes everyone around so that she's on one side of Derek and Stiles is on his other.

Derek glares at her.

"Now now, little bro," she chastises, patting his knee, "we're here to listen to the exact same welcome speech as last year, and the year before that, and to admire the ambience of this establishment's fine grand ballroom."

Stiles snorts. "Oh yeah, sure, let's bask in the 70s architecture and 90s decor. I swear, the Motel Glen Capri back home had a better aesthetic than this place."

Derek's torn between telling him to shut up in case he offends someone and agreeing wholeheartedly. The beige colour scheme of the "ballroom" is uninspiring to say the least, and the tiny, cracking ivy decals crawling up the walls do nothing to class the place up. The bedrooms aren't much better—Derek and Laura's walls are painted pastel pink, which actually ends up being a welcome relief from the clashing floral patterns of the rug, curtains and bedspreads.

"Where _is_ home, anyway?" Laura asks interestedly, leaning over Derek to speak to Stiles. Derek thinks that if she's so fascinated by him then maybe _she_ should be the one sitting next to him. "I think I heard you mention California?"

Stiles grimaces. "Yeah, uh…" He glances behind him at Scott, but Scott is chatting with an older woman in the row in front of them. "We're from Beacon Hills," he admits. His eyes dart to Derek, then away again, to his hands in his lap, fiddling with his phone.

Laura doesn't grace Derek with a look quite so quick. "Oh," she says quietly. Her hand migrates back to his thigh, this time squeezing firmly, supportively. 

"I'm fine," Derek says. He is. He can meet people from their home town and not freak out. He has no reason to freak out—Paige is fine, no one died in the fire, and the rest of his pack is healthy and happy in their territory in New York. Beacon Hills and all of its potential trauma is in the past. None of it would be news to Stiles anyway, he's obviously intimately familiar with their history. "I'm _fine_."

"He's fine," Laura announces.

"Yeah he is," Stiles mutters, like he's forgotten he's in a room full of werewolves with exquisite hearing. Derek feels heat rise to his cheeks, but he stubbornly refuses to react. Any sort of acknowledgement from him and Laura will never leave him alone. Meanwhile, Stiles shakes his head, finally looking up and continuing on like the last thirty seconds never happened, which is probably for the best. "So, yeah. Beacon Hills has been a shitshow featuring all our favourite evil creatures: nemetons, chimeras, kanimas, wendigos, all of the above. We have a banshee, a kitsune and an ex-hunter in our pack, Scott's a true alpha, our emissary tells me I'm _something_ but no one knows what and I'm pretty sure he's lying—"

"He's not," Derek interrupts, before he can stop himself. Stiles looks at him, brows furrowed, and Derek just shrugs, trying not to seem as if only knowing Stiles for an hour but being this knowledgeable about his scent is a normal thing. He's just— it's obvious, is all. Stiles' _something_ ness is clear, and the details may elude Derek, but Stiles just, he has this—this _spark_ that's as clear to Derek as Scott's wolf. He shrugs again, quicker. "I couldn't tell you what. Our mom would probably know, she's way better at defining what each chemosignal and pheromone means, I just— You're definitely something."

Stiles tilts his head, and then a tiny, pleased smile comes over his face.

"Oh my god," Laura groans, dodging the elbow Derek aims at her kidney. "Please, stop, my teeth are rotting in real time."

"Do you need to go and see a dentist?" Scott asks earnestly, obviously having just come back into the conversation.

They all stare at him.

"What?" he says, blinking. "Dental health is super important!"

Stiles snickers, throwing his arm over Scott's shoulders. "Never change, buddy," he says fondly. "Never change."

 

-3-

It's possible that Derek has been ignoring just how hot he thinks Stiles is. 

And honestly, laying in his too-soft hotel bed the next morning, wide awake but stubbornly keeping his eyes shut in protest, he's not sure why he's doing it. 

If there was anywhere to just let himself feel something for once, it would be here. Here, where _everyone's_ emotions are leaking _everywhere_ , and there's not only an unspoken agreement but an actual written agreement every attendee has to sign that promises no olfactory information will be commented on or used against any other party. Here, where there's so many scents doing so many things it's too difficult to even bother keeping track or he'll get a headache. Here, where even though Laura would undoubtedly just laugh and pretend the rules don't apply to her, as usual, she wouldn't say a thing for fear of news of her disrespectfulness getting back to their mom.

Anyway, the point is, for his own mental health Derek has been ignoring how intriguing he finds Stiles. How warm his skin is. How comforting his scent is. How the colour of his human eyes shifts depending on the light, more subtly than the shift of any supernatural creature. How Derek kind of just wants to sit him down and learn everything about him, and meet his pack and his family and have Stiles meet his pack and his family and then maybe merge packs and families when he and Stiles get married and have babies. 

Which is absolutely ridiculous. Because Derek has only spent approximately ninety-four minutes with Stiles, all of those minutes with Stiles' alpha and Derek's sister keeping a close watch. There's no way Derek likes him as much as he thinks he does, it's impossible. 

So he'd barely be able to concentrate on the panels he'd attended—most of them were boring, packed with dry information he's heard his whole life. So he'd lined up for the dinner buffet only to see Stiles a few people ahead and he'd suddenly felt all queasy—he's an introvert, spending too much time with people always makes him feel queasy. So he hadn't even thought to clear it with Laura before grabbing one measly muffin and hightailing it back to their room to throw himself onto his bed—she's a grown woman and being groomed as the next Hale alpha, she can hold her own. 

So he'd basically had to jam his hands under the mattress so he wouldn't jerk off thinking of Stiles. That's the most easily explainable—he's been sharing space with Laura for so long now he hasn't jerked off in forever, so he's desperate. That's all. Any pretty person would do. 

Sure. 

Groaning, Derek gives up on sleep and rolls over, slapping around for his phone. He disconnects it from the charger and squints at the screen, hoping for something, anything to distract him, but knowing he won't get it. Not when his only two messages are from his sisters. 

Derek sighs and checks Laura's message first, just in case. It's timestamped half an hour ago, about the time Derek heard her get up and leave the room. 

_Gone to get breakfast meet me by the elevator on the first floor by 7.45_  
_We're taking a yoga class in the hope that maybe you'll find some inner peace lol_  
_Lololololol_

Derek ignores her and thumbs to his thread with Cora.

_Laura says you're in luv_

How could Laura even— Derek's barely even spoken to her since they met Stiles! Not that it's definitely Stiles she's talking about. It could be someone else. Someone else who Derek is suddenly and inexplicably having _feelings_ for. Someone else who—

He growls and jabs viciously at his touch screen. _Does she even know the meaning of that word?_

_She lobes her vibrator_  
_*loves_  
_Maybe I should make sure something *happens to it*_

Derek honestly has no idea what all the asterisks are for, but her ominous tone is very clear regardless. _Then she'd be even more intolerable. Hold off for now, but she's forcing me to go to yoga in twenty minutes. Ask me again after that._

_Lol I rly enjoy how you type all your sentences in one message and don't even like multi-message or anything_  
_It's so 2013 of you and you don;t even know it_  
_So endearing_

Derek rolls his eyes. There's no way he has any chance of maintaining a successful conversation with Cora when she gets like this, and she knows it, so he shoves his phone back onto the bedside table and forces himself to get up. He changes into his moisture-wicking shirt and a pair of baggy shorts, before remembering that yoga means body parts going in all directions, and adds his compression shorts underneath. He does his bathroom business and steps out of the elevator downstairs at 7.47.

"Come on," she whines, as soon as the doors judder open, grabbing his hand and tugging him through the lobby, out towards the pool. "We need to get a good spot!"

Derek growls. "Why? I can fail at contorting my body into stupid positions from anywh—"

And then he sees just who else is taking this class.

No, hold on— Stiles is chatting with a blond beta and not just moving his yoga mat towards the front, he's—

He's placing it _right at the head_ of the group, in a row of his own, _facing_ the other rows, which means he's—

He's—

"Hot for teacher, huh Derek?" Laura says into his ear, grinning and breezing past him to go and greet Stiles.

Derek doesn't even try to deny it. He just watches Stiles, as his face lights up when he sees Laura, as he steps in to hug her, as the muscles of his exposed arms bunch and tighten when he wraps his arms around her, as he pulls back and laughs at something she says, as his head tilts and his pale throat unfurls, as his yoga pants hug the curve of his ass _perfectly_ , as he looks up to see Derek, as his expression turns from warm to hot, as a slow grin slides across his lips and Derek just—

He would really, really like to just drown himself in the pool right now.

Instead, he skirts around it and heads for the shady patch of grass Stiles has set up in, stepping up behind Laura.

"Hey," Stiles says, somehow making even that one word drip with meaning.

"Hey." Derek is awkward, because situations like this where he— and there are _feelings _, they— it just always makes him awkward. "I didn't know you were taking this class."__

__Stiles' face falls a little. "You didn't?" He glances uncertainly at Laura, who has stepped aside and is pretending to look at something on her phone._ _

__"I—" Derek shakes his head. "I'm glad you are," he manages._ _

__"You sure?" Stiles asks, but his lips are sloping up, just a little._ _

__"Not everything unexpected is bad."_ _

__Stiles snorts. "Kind of is, in my case." He starts playing mindlessly with the drawstring on his pants. Derek forces himself not to watch his hands. "Which is actually why I started doing yoga, to be honest. It's a way to… things finally go quiet in my head. It's pretty hectic up there, usually."_ _

__"I'm not surprised," Derek says softly._ _

__Stiles rolls his eyes, but it seems— fond. Can they already be fond? Can two people who met less than twenty four hours ago be fond? Whatever the case, Derek's not surprised that Stiles has been the one to make it possible. "So then I started thinking like, what if I could figure out or like— tailor a class for shifters? As kind of like a— an aid or even a replacement for an unstable anchor. If shifters could centre themselves using learned techniques instead of relying on an unreliable anchor—which most them are, because most of them are people, and people suck, especially when put under pressure—then like, wouldn't that just make things so much easier?"_ _

__By now, Stiles has Laura's full attention. She slides her phone back into her bag. "Right," she says slowly, her tone wavering between diplomatic and defensive. "So… you, a twenty-something human, are coming into a werewolf community and telling us we've been doing it wrong for hundreds of years and now you're, what? Gonna save us all for only six easy payments of twenty nine ninety nine?"_ _

__"Don't do that," Stiles says sharply. "I get it, but I'm not the enemy here. You know who is the enemy? A hunter who wouldn't spare a second wondering whether to kill your anchor just to hurt you and make you crazy. Or another alpha who decides kidnapping your anchor and forcing your hand is the best way to win that territory dispute. Scott hasn't always had such good control— I helped with that. And back then I was young and dumb, with not even a tenth of the knowledge I have now, and it _still_ worked. So when Scott's girlfriend—his anchor—nearly got killed, he wasn't in such a vulnerable position that he couldn't _do_ anything about it. He kept his cool, and we saved her. If I hadn't helped him through those early days we'd probably all be dead by now. So I get it, tradition involves anchors, and tradition is important to werewolves, I'm not trying to undermine that. I just think tradition and historical convention can sometimes get a little help from their friends, innovation and progression." He looks from Derek to Laura and back again, then slumps a little and shrugs. "My classes are completely voluntary, and I don't expect you to stay if you're not interested."_ _

__Derek takes a step forward, wants to say something, anything—but it's not his place, he's only a beta, and just because he thinks the idea has some merit, because his own heavy reliance on his anchor scares him sometimes, that doesn't mean he can do anything about it._ _

__But it turns out he doesn't have to._ _

__Laura grabs Stiles' arm, keeping her grip gentle. "No it's—" She huffs out a breath. "I think the same way. About tradition. Like, our mom is our alpha—and I'm not speaking out against her, I don't have a death wish—but sometimes it's like… it feels like sometimes the individual is neglected in favour of the pack, or like, the way things _were_ is more important than the way things are now, or the way they could be." She turns to Derek, shrugging helplessly. "Sometimes I just think, maybe we could hit a better balance. Or, you know, maybe I could, once it's my time. Is that stupid?" _ _

__Derek stares at her. He's just…_ _

__He's really fucking proud of her._ _

__"You're gonna be really good at this," he murmurs, heartbeat never wavering._ _

__The smile that Laura gives him is _almost_ the best thing Derek has seen all day._ _

__Almost._ _

__

-4- 

_So stiles is actually doing an official demonstration thingy for his yoga thing in the gym this morning instead of outside_  
_Like RIGHT NOW_  
_You should come_  
_Maybe volunteer to be IN the demonstration_

_I'm busy._

_You're not busy you're an idiot_  
_Don't you wanna support him_

_I'm sure he'll have all the support he needs. His alpha will be there, and I'm assuming that if he's doing this in an official capacity then there will be more than enough intrigued parties there._

_Derek_  
_Derek_  
_Derekkkkkkkkkkk_

_Stop it Laura, or I'll put my phone on do not disturb and I won't be able to come and save you from any pushy alphas._

_Pfft since when when did I need rescuing_

_I meant save you from creating a pack war when you inevitably beat whatever bozo is stupid enough to challenge you, but okay._

_Aww what a flatterer_  
_He asked about you btw_  
_Stiles, stiles asked about you_

_I figured._  
_What did he ask?_

_Hmm it's really hard to remember rn_  
_Something about… no, lost it_  
_Maybe if you were here I'd remember_  
_Wait hold on he's found some other dude to be his demonstration bitch_  
_Ooh this dude is pretty hot_  
_They're touching each other a lot_  
_A lot a lot_  
_So much touching_  
_What a lucky demonstration bitch_  
_What was it you were busy with again? Listening to satomi rant about the good old days or smth?_

_No, her very informative and helpful seminar just ended. Is the demonstration still going?_

_Oh yeah_  
_But you should get here soon, demo bitch just tried to feel stiles up and now stiles is yelling at him_  
_He's pretty hot when he's angry_  
_Okay demo bitch just got escorted from the room and now stiles needs needs a new demo bitch_  
_It really is a pity you're not here_

_...I'm outside._

_I know lol I can smell yiu lol_  
_You're such a loser_

_Shut up._  
_Also thank you._

__

-5- 

__Derek's last panel of the day runs late because of a disagreement and ensuing debate between a born beta and a bitten omega, so he forgets to take his phone off do not disturb until he's almost back at his room. Once he gets his messages, he kind of wishes he hadn't._ _

_____I'm assuming ur not going to the mixer tonight_  
_Me neither official werewolf parties are so lame like at least bring out a the wolfsbane brew wtf is wrong with these people_  
_Anyway I'm up in our room and unlike SOME nerds I have cool stuff like bane brew, get up here when ur done_

__Which is great. Laura isn't an overly annoying drunk, per se, just handsy and loud. She loses all concept of volume control and constantly tries to show off how strong she is, so she can be a bit of a handful._ _

__Derek sighs. It's either a rowdy Laura or a party full of people he can't stand trying to suck up to him to get on his mom's good side, so in the end his choice is very clear, and he swipes his card and opens the door._ _

__"Ayyyyy!" Laura and— and Stiles, _Stiles_ who is reclining all over Derek's _bed_ , like he doesn't know what that _means_ , like he doesn't care that his _scent_ will just permeate the whole—_ _

__"It's Derek!" Laura shrieks, toppling off her bed and stumbling over to Derek, throwing her arms around him and lifting him up, spinning him around. "Stiles!" she keeps shrieking, after she's finally put Derek down. "Derek's here!"_ _

__Stiles smirks, letting his gaze wander over to Derek and then run up his body, slowly._ _

__It's a look Derek's been on the receiving end of many times, but it's never made him feel like _this_._ _

__"Hey Stiles," he says, dry mouthed._ _

__Stiles takes another sip from his bottle, keeping eye contact the whole time. "Hey Derek."_ _

__"Derek's here!" Laura shouts again, throwing up her arms, staggering sideways._ _

__Derek catches her around the waist. "Okay, everyone's here, great observation, time to have a rest now." He manoeuvres her over to her bed. "Under or over the covers?"_ _

__"Undover!" She throws her arms into the air before jumping onto the bed and tucking her body under the comforter. "I love undover! I love—" She cuts herself off, eyes bugging out a bit. "Apparently I love being sick!" She looks pleadingly up at Derek, and he picks her up, carries her into the ensuite and settles her in front of the toilet. He closes the door behind on her, giving her the illusion of privacy, despite the fact that everyone in a three-room radius will be able to hear her. He turns to Stiles. "You good?"_ _

__Stiles nods._ _

__"Sure? I can—"_ _

__"Derek," Stiles says, sounding remarkably lucid, "I'm not actually that drunk."_ _

__"Laura is—" Derek starts to say, but he's interrupted by the melodious sounds of Laura finally emptying her stomach contents into the toilet._ _

__"Laura is shitfaced," Stiles agrees. "But I'm pretty sure she drank more than me on purpose."_ _

__"Why?" Derek asks, glancing at the bathroom door. "Is she okay?"_ _

__Stiles licks his lips, well and truly drawing Derek's attention back to him. "Fo sho, fo sho. She just… Have you noticed she's been kind of… pushing us together?"_ _

__"To be fair, she wasn't really trying to be subtle." He frowns. "Actually, that's definitely something she has to work on before she replaces our mom."_ _

__"Hey Derek. No offense, but can we not talk about your mom right now?"_ _

__Derek shakes his head. "Sorry."_ _

__"I mean, we can?" Stiles sits up straighter, leans against the headboard and shrugs. "Or I could talk about mine. Maybe tell you how she died when I was eight, and now I have so few memories of her it's like she was just some kind of really awesome imaginary friend, or you know, fun things like that."_ _

__Derek doesn't even hesitate to share his own history. He finds he wants to tell Stiles everything. "My dad died when I was three. I don't remember him at all."_ _

__Stiles nods, a few too many times for someone who's claiming to be as not-drunk as he is. "Well gee dude, way to make it a competition." He slides down the headboard a little, picking at the label on his bottle. "I wish I had a sibling growing up. Scott's my bro, but there's a lot to be said for living with someone."_ _

__Derek nods. His sisters are dicks, but he can't imagine being without them. "Where is Scott tonight?" He gently removes the bottle from Stiles' hands and climbs onto the bed next to him, shuffling over so their shoulders are touching._ _

__"The mixer. He loves parties. Me, not so much."_ _

__"Me neither."_ _

__They're quiet for a few moments._ _

__"Do you think she's okay in there?" Stiles wonders, squinting at the bathroom._ _

__"I think she's asleep." If he strains and really tries his hardest to block out the comforting thumping of Stiles' heartbeat, he can hear her soft snores. "All this was her plan. I say we leave her in there so when she wakes up she really feels like she's done a good thing."_ _

__"Seconded," Stiles says, nodding. "And Derek?"_ _

__"Yeah?"_ _

__"She has done a good thing. A kind of… a kind of shitty thing too, but also a good thing."_ _

__"Yeah," Derek says softly. "That's what she's good at."_ _

__

__+1_ _

__The next night, the last night of PAWS, Derek is restless and bored. He hasn't seen anyone he knows in hours, and he's not in the mood to talk to any more strangers, so for lack of other options he decides to go for a walk. It's a warm night out, the air bordering on too close, and although more time alone will mean more time for Derek to get stuck in his own head, he's hoping that the outside world will provide him with some kind of stimulating diversion. Something that will distract him from thinking about Stiles. Because tomorrow morning, Stiles will be going back to Beacon Hills, and Derek will be flying across the country, and then there'll be nearly three thousand miles between them. They've exchanged phone numbers, but Derek really doesn't think he could do long-distance. He needs touch, he needs skin and warmth and scent, and being able to have Stiles but not being able to _have_ him—that would be torture._ _

__Derek scowls, stopping in front of the elevator and jabbing at the down button._ _

__"You have to press it a bunch of times in quick succession, or it won't come quicker," a voice says from behind him._ _

__'A voice'. Like Derek doesn't know exactly who it is._ _

__"That's what she said," he says, turning slowly to face Stiles._ _

__Stiles grins delightedly. "Dude! I didn't even set that one up for you on purpose! Derek Hale, that was a triumph and a masterpiece and it deserves to be celebrated." He extends a palm up for a high five._ _

__Derek doesn't even bother trying to pretend like he's not going to return it. He slaps his hand to Stiles', off-centre and too low._ _

__Stiles stares at him. "I'm guessing you don't do that very often."_ _

__"You were my first," Derek confirms. "They say that it gets better after your first time, right?"_ _

__"Ugh, Derek!" Stiles sounds wounded. "Stop it, please! My heart can't take much more of this! Before the innuendo I was like, 'well he's not _perfect_ , I haven't even heard him innuend', but now you've innuendoed _twice_!" He sighs sadly. "You really don't want me to be happy, do you?"_ _

__Derek wants Stiles to _always_ be happy. He wants Stiles to always be happy with _him_. And from the now-sober look on his face, Stiles seems to know that. _ _

__But before either of them can say anything more, the elevator doors ding open and Laura stumbles out, looking wild-eyed and smelling anxious._ _

__"Oh my god, you're both here, thank _god_ , okay, okay, we don't have much time, I just—" She rushes over to Stiles and wraps her arms around his neck. "I'm so sorry for this," she says, "but also, you should treasure this moment forever." And then she smashes her lips into his._ _

__Stiles is frozen, discomfort oozing out of him. Laura is tense, eyes squeezed shut, but keeps the lip contact going anyway._ _

__Derek is gonna commit sororicide._ _

__And then the second elevator arrives, someone steps off, and Laura finally lets Stiles go, her arm dropping to snake around his waist instead. They all turn to see Ennis from Deucalion's pack hovering behind them, scowling and antsy, oozing hostility and resentment._ _

__"Oh, hey Ennis," Laura says coolly. "Didn't feel rejected enough yet, so you had to follow me up? I told you I was coming to see my new boyfriend. This is him, this is Stiles, my new b—" Her heartbeat wavers, bordering on a blip, and she changes tactics. "My new style. His name is Stiles, and he's exactly my style. Anyway, Derek and I both love him," no blip this time, not that Derek's really surprised, "and we're probably about to go and, I don't know, maybe have a threesome or something. I'd invite you, but it'll be pretty crowded. Also, I would never invite you." She smiles brightly at him._ _

__Ennis growls, taking a menacing step forward, but Laura snarls back, flashing her eyes at him._ _

__"Don't even think about it," she snaps._ _

__It takes him only a second to back down. He throws one last glare at Laura, then slams into the stairwell. Derek hears him jump the whole first flight of stairs before he stops listening and turns back to his family._ _

__There's an awkward pause._ _

__"Just so we're clear," Stiles says faintly, "I tried a threesome once, didn't really dig it. Too many limbs to configure."_ _

__"Just so _we're_ clear," Derek says, finally finding his voice, carefully removing Laura's hands from Stiles and rubbing _his_ hands over the places she touched, barely aware he's even doing it, "you'll never have to have another threesome again." He stops, realising what he just said, and swallows thickly. "I mean, if… if you don't want." _ _

__Stiles smiles slowly, genuine and delighted. "Oh, I don't want. I really, really don't want."_ _

__Finally, Derek allows himself to pull Stiles into a full body hug, really taking his time to admire Stiles' touch and skin and warmth and scent, clutching tighter every time Stiles shifts in his arms._ _

__"Well," Laura says from behind them, clapping suddenly. They both jump, and Derek reluctantly pulls away to glare at his sister. "That was eventful. Stiles, thanks for being my decoy."_ _

__Stiles shrugs. "I still don't get why you didn't just kick his ass, but happy to help."_ _

__"Pack politics, mostly," Derek explains, edging closer to Stiles, unable to curb his yearning for him. It's ridiculous, mostly because Stiles has almost been more physically intimate with Laura than he has with Derek at this point, but when Stiles notices he just extends his hand again, fingers wiggling encouragingly. This time, Derek slides his palm directly over his, linking their fingers. "Ennis is part of Deucalion's pack. They have ties going way back with our mom. A rebuff in private is generally advised over a public asskicking when egos like Ennis' are involved."_ _

__"Exactly." Laura nods. "And speaking of mom, Derek, we have news from the homestead." She gets a gleam in her eyes, glancing between them, and Derek would be scared but… he's holding Stiles' hand, and he kind of feels like he could handle anything. "Mom wants to send a representative of the Hale pack to stay in Beacon Hills for a while. Apparently they've been having issues there, and our ties to the land and like, deeply-embedded supernatural knowledge might help the pack there? Anyway she asked me if I had any ideas about who to send, and I was thinking maybe Peter. Any suggestions?"_ _

__Stiles squeezes his hand. "Derek," he starts, sounding concerned, "if you can't— If Beacon Hills—"_ _

__"I'm fine," Derek says truthfully, squeezing back. "I promise."_ _

__"Yeah?"_ _

__He looks from Stiles, who's smiling so wide, to Laura, who's never gonna let him forget that all of this is because of her, even the very fact that he met Stiles at all. "I mean, I hate my sister," he adds, "she's the bane of my existence and everything she does causes me pain, but you know pack. You gotta love them anyway."_ _

__"Aw," Laura says, clutching her hands to her heart. "Love you too, little bro. Love you too."_ _

**Author's Note:**

> [Stiles' yoga pants](https://yoga-eco-clothing.com/product/cuffed-yoga-pants-for-men/), naturally.
> 
> Corresponding [tumblr post](http://fishcommander.tumblr.com/post/166170956951/hope-locked-in-my-throat-sterek-fic)!
> 
> Also, why do html italics on ao3 hate me?? Why?? I've been so loyal to them??


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